Thick as Thieves
by Dibellan Arts
Summary: Trapped in the crumbling ruins of Irkngthand, Brynjolf and the Dragonborn prepare to meet Nocturnal. [Rated M for smut and gore]


Mercer locks eyes with me in his final moments, disbelief written clearly across his face. A little bubble of blood swells at the corner of his lips and bursts.

I cross my swords at his throat. Pitilessly, I stare down at the man who slashed my body open and left me to bleed to death in a Nordic ruin. I allow myself a tiny smile as my blades scissor through the skin and muscle and bone that connect Mercer Frey's head to his body.

His head goes bouncing down the steps, and after what feels like an eternity, his body rolls onto its side, drenching the stonework with blood.

Suddenly Mercer's body emits a burst of invisible energy. Something above us ruptures; an earsplitting crack echoes through the chamber and small jets of water shoot through the rocks.

"Damn," Karliah says. "This place is coming down. Quick, get the skeleton key and the eye and let's get out of here."

Suddenly the wall behind her begins to crumble. Before I can shout a warning, several large boulders come crashing down on her. Her muffled cry is cut short; one of the rocks collides with the back of her head and she falls to the ground.

Brynjolf cries out and leaps down the crumbling steps. We both arrive at Karliah's side at the same time. I prod her neck until my fingers find a pulse. "She's alive," I breathe.

"Thank the gods," Brynjolf says.

There is water pooling around our feet now. I look around desperately; the doorway is completely buried.

I look at Brynjolf. The frantic look in his eyes confirms my suspicions—we're trapped in here.

Wordlessly, Brynjolf scoops Karliah up in his arms. We run up the steps of the snow elf statue. Frantically, I search the walls of the chamber for some sort of alcove in the rock that might prove to be a secret passage, an escape tunnel—anything. But no luck.

"We must be underneath a lake," Brynjolf says. "See how the water's coming in from the ceiling?"

"Not making me feel any better, Bryn," I say, eyes swiveling around the dead-end chamber.

"How much time do you think we have?" he asks.

"There's already a foot of water down there," I say. "Maybe thirty minutes?"

"Think that's enough time to clear a pathway to the door?" Brynjolf asks. A foreboding rumble issues from somewhere overhead.

"No," I say. "I don't think it is."

Our eyes meet, and in that moment, I know that we're going to die.

Brynjolf stoops and lays Karliah down on the stone. Her chest rises and falls. Will she regain consciousness before the chamber fills with water and we all drown? Or will she awaken the Twilight Sepulcher with no recollection of her watery demise?

Brynjolf looks at me. "What now?"

"I don't know," I say in an anguished voice. "Why are you asking me?"

"You're the boss now, lass."

I shake my head. "That was just a formality. I'm no more capable of leading the guild than you are. And I definitely don't know how to get us out of this mess."

"So you're giving up?" he asks.

I look at him. His long red hair falls into his eyes; he brushes it away and stares back at me. There is no accusation in his gaze—just anticipation. Like he's waiting for me to do something unexpected.

"You've always put too much faith in me," I say quietly. "You know that, right?"

He smiles; the scar on his cheek stretches. "I don't know about that, lass. You've never disappointed me yet."

I look away from him. "Guess there's a first time for everything."

Something groans and a jet of water shoots down from the ceiling, adding to the rising pool at the base of the statue. I sit down and dangle my legs over the ledge. Brynjolf follows my lead.

"So… ready to die?" he asks in a conversational tone.

"What kind of question is that?" I ask.

He laughs. "Oh, go on. Are you prepared for death, lass?"

I stare at him. More than anything, I find his calm unnerving. "I suppose so," I say slowly.

"Not leaving any loved ones behind?"

Suddenly my eyes fill with tears. Horrified, I look away from Brynjolf, struggling to compose myself. "No," I say gruffly. "No one outside of this room gives a rat's ass about me, Bryn."

He chuckles.

"What about you?" I ask, finally trusting myself to look at him.

He shrugs. "Never had much of a family outside the guild."

"Me neither," I say, looking at my hands. "I wish…" my eyes are smarting again. Fuck.

Brynjolf touches my arm. I look up at him in surprise; he's usually so business-like, so brisk. And yet some part of me always knew, or guessed, that it was all just an act.

"I wish I had joined the guild a long time ago," I finally finish.

"It would have never been enough time, lass," he says softly.

I look into his eyes. How long have I known him—twenty days? A month at the most? And yet he knows me better than anyone.

"Why'd you pick me, Brynjolf?" I ask as a boulder falls from the ceiling and sends a wave of spray into the air. "You could have hired anyone for that job. Why me?"

He touches my cheek. "I saw something in you, lass. When I spotted you in the marketplace—let's see—how'd Mercer put it? 'I felt a sudden shift in the winds.'"

He runs his fingers along my cheekbone and my face floods with warmth. I've never been this close to him before; I can feel the heat radiating off his skin.

"So… are _you_ ready to die?" I ask, looking up at him.

His eyes meet mine; they are hungry. "Not quite yet," he says quietly. He reaches up and cradles my face in his hands. I close my eyes.

There's no time to question his motives—no time to act coy—no time to think—no time to _breathe_. Under different circumstances I might have spurned his advances; I'm good at that, at pushing people away... But now my physical need is stronger than ever, fueled, perhaps, by the knowledge that my body will be cold and lifeless in a few minutes….

He interrupts my thoughts with a kiss. His lips are warm. Soft.

Warmth surges through my body as I breathe his heady scent. This is it. Euphoria.

He kisses me with soft, sucking motions, his hands warm on my cheeks, his hair tickling my neck. The feelings that I have been unknowingly suppressing for the past month come rushing to the surface, and I realize with a jolt that I am falling for Brynjolf.

We break apart for a brief moment and a sigh of contentment escapes my lips. I can barely hear the roaring water over the sound of Brynjolf's heavy breathing. His hands travel down my neck and a tiny shiver travels up my spine.

He wraps his arms around my waist and presses his body against mine. I can feel his warmth emanating through his heavy leather armor; abruptly I am seized with an acute need to be closer to him. I fling my arms around his neck and kiss him with a ferocity that takes both of us by surprise; a tiny gasp escapes his lips when I bite down on them—hard.

"Easy, lass," he says in a low, unbearably sexy voice. I kiss his smirking mouth as his hands travel down my lower back and come to rest on my ass. He squeezes it once—twice—then his fingers move to the front of my trousers and abruptly plunge into the space between my underwear and my skin.

I gasp; my eyes meet his. Understanding passes between us. We are going to make good use of the time we have left.

He tears the button off my trousers and yanks them down to my knees. Whether from the cold air on my naked skin or Brynjolf's moan of appreciation at the sight of it, my thighs erupt with goosebumps.

Brynjolf kneels at my feet, never taking his eyes off the shape of my pussy lips through the sheer fabric of my panties, and presses his lips to the inside of my thigh. I moan and stagger a little against his shoulder. The tip of his tongue travels up my thigh, leaving a trail of moisture that tingles as his breath wafts across it. He hesitates when he reaches my pussy, then kisses it through the fabric.

I swoon.

He catches me, laughing, and guides me to the ground, where he removes my boots and trousers. Still feeling a bit lightheaded, I watch as he pulls the top half of his armor over his head. He is lightly drenched in sweat; his naked torso gleams in the dim light. He removes his trousers. His swollen member bursts out of his underwear as he pulls them down his legs. I can't take my eyes off it, though I know I must be making him self-conscious.

"You're shaking," he says, eyebrows knitting together with concern. He hesitates, then touches my knee.

"Am I?" I say, then laugh because I can hear my teeth chattering.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to, lass," Brynjolf says. "Just because we're going to die doesn't mean—"

He gasps—my fingers are traveling along his shaft, lightly tickling his skin until they reach the tip. "I want to," I say firmly. "More than I've ever wanted anything. That's why I'm shaking."

He grins. "We'd better hurry, then."

I pull what's left of my armor over my head. My breasts loll onto my chest, the nipples aggressively erect. He falls onto them, sucking greedily. The thin, translucent skin ripples around his working mouth; I whimper when his teeth inadvertently brush my nipple. Though the area is far from my pussy, a series of tiny vaginal contractions cause me to inhale sharply.

Grinning around my nipple, he cups my pussy in his hand and begins to rotate my clit over my panties. I shiver and wrap my arms around his shoulders, clutching him to me, distantly aware of the rising water. My heart is pounding in my ears. He releases my nipple and gives me a sopping wet kiss. Tremblingly, I trace the inside of his upper lip with my tongue.

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties and guides them down my hips; I lift myself up, trying to help. His eyes fall upon my pussy and I feel his member throb against my leg. Something warm and wet oozes from its tip.

Even though I'm naked and it's freezing cold in here, my blood boils under my skin. I lie back and wrap my legs around his hips. He groans as his cock inadvertently slides between the slippery wet folds of my pussy.

"Please," I moan, "Oh Brynjolf—"

Something cold and wet grabs my toe. I gasp and look up. It's water. All but the head of the snow elf statue is submerged, now. Karliah's body floats nearby, face-up, but still unresponsive.

"Up here," Brynjolf says, sliding me onto the statue's golden collar. He repositions himself, and suddenly, he's inside me.

I cry out in surprise, but we're both so wet that there's no pain. He thrusts once, twice, a third time. Then he falls onto me and presses his body so tightly against mine that his pubic bone mashes my clit. He quiets my yelp of surprise with a kiss, then begins to grind, his hips moving in small circles. Emboldened by the pleasure pooling in my abdominal region, I grab his buttocks in my hands and squeeze them—they're so deliciously taut—

He pushes down on my clit with all his strength; the sensation is so intense that my body tenses up and I cum without warning, fiery pleasure rocketing from my abdomen to the tips of my toes and back again.

"Oh—oh—oh!" I scream, my toes curling.

He continues to grind on my clit, riding out the storm with me, his breath loud and hot in my ear. My contractions reach their zenith and I clamp down on his member, squeezing it so hard that his eyes pop. He groans, lifts himself off of me and begins to thrust, rolling all the way back and plunging into me so hard that I scream.

The water is lapping at our knees now. Brynjolf fucks me like I've never been fucked before—each thrust sends waves of pleasure over my head. His rock-hard shaft glances off my clit with each thrust, and I cum again, my eyes rolling back in my head with the sheer force of it. Something spurts out of me, wetting his cock. I'm too disoriented to wonder what it is, but he pauses, wets his fingers with it, and sticks them in his mouth. Smirking, he wets them again and inserts them into my mouth. They are salty.

The water is creeping up my back now. I struggle to sit up; abruptly, Brynjolf turns me around, seizes me beneath my armpits, and flings me up over the statue's head. Face to face with the snow elf's crown, I feel Brynjolf climb up behind me (using its empty eye sockets as footholds) and spread my ass open. He leans over and I feel his breath on my back.

Suddenly something hot and wet presses against my asshole. I groan long and loud as Brynjolf circles it with his tongue. He stops and positions himself over me.

He enters my ass very gently, slowly, licking his fingers and wiping them along his shaft in order to lubricate it. I feel my eyes widen as he buries himself to the hilt, then begins to rock his hips. Reaching underneath me, his thumb finds my clit and he squashes it mercilessly; I yowl in protest. He slaps my ass with his free hand; I can almost hear him smirking.

The rocking turns into thrusting. I become vaguely aware of a searing pain in my asshole, but the pain is almost entirely eclipsed by the feel of Brynjolf's cock rolling against my g-spot through several layers muscle. I bite my lips until they hurt.

He thrusts faster and faster, his breaths coming in quick, shuddering gasps. Suddenly he grabs my hair and pulls. I breathe in sharply.

He loosens his grip in response, perhaps thinking that he caused me pain.

" _No_ , don't stop," I moan, squeezing my eyes shut tight. "Keep pulling—keep fucking—"

And he shouts my name, yanking on my hair. His body goes rigid. I feel him cum inside of me, his thighs clenching and unclenching against mine. He holds his breath for ten long seconds, then releases it in a single euphoric woosh—

He falls onto my back, gasping. He's shaking uncontrollably, and now I'm the one smirking.

After a minute or two, he pulls out of me and cum dribbles down my thighs. I roll over and help him up onto the head of the statue. Something in the ceiling bursts, and a huge jet of water surges from the ceiling.

The water is rising fast now. Brynjolf looks at me. There is no terror in his expression—just tenderness. He leans forward and kisses me, his arms winding around my body. I kiss him back, running my hands through his damp hair. In my hyper-stimulated state, his touch is electric on my skin.

I lie back and spread my legs. Brynjolf looks at me, confused, until I say "I want to die with you inside of me."

Smiling, he positions himself over me and presses his softening member into my pussy. Then I sit up and wrap my arms and legs around his back. He wraps his legs around me and we cradle one another. We kiss.

The water is up to our ribs now. "Glad I have you to keep me warm, lass," Brynjolf says, though his teeth are chattering.

"Just wish it could last forever," I stammer back.

"It would have never been long enough," he says, smiling.

The water rises to our chins. Brynjolf looks into my eyes as he takes his last steadying breaths. I follow suit, refusing to look away from him.

The water rises over our heads. I close my eyes, savoring the feel of his warm, trembling body against mine in the cold water.

The end. I'm ready for it now. Brynjolf squeezes my hands reassuringly. We will meet in the Evergloam once our debts to Nocturnal have been fulfilled.

A minute passes. My lungs scream for air. Brynjolf touches my cheek. His fingers are cold.

Suddenly there is a loud crash. I open my eyes.

Boulders fall from a new opening at the top of the chamber. The shimmery film over it indicates that it is full of air.

I yank on Brynjolf's arm, but there's no need. He's seen it, too.

Karliah's body floats nearby, her eyes closed. I grab her by the hand and we swim as has hard as we can toward the opening. My vision is darkening, my lungs screaming, and yet I swim with all my might, my fingers intertwined with Brynjolf's and Karliah's, kicking and surging until—

Our heads break the surface. I suck in a great, delicious gulp of air. I can hear Brynjolf beside me, sucking as much air into one breath as he possibly can.

He clambers out of the water, dragging me with him, though I am still weak. Together we drag Karliah after us.

Once on solid ground, Brynjolf places his hands on Karliah's chest and performs several compressions. Suddenly she turns her head and expels a large amount of water onto the ground. Her eyelids flutter as she coughs and retches again and again, rolling over onto her knees and clutching her sides.

Brynjolf sighs a great sigh of relief and sits back on his heels. I touch Karliah's shoulder gently.

"Are you alright?" I ask once her retching has subsided.

"I think so," she says.

Brynjolf and I exchange guilty glances.

Suddenly her head comes up. "Shadows preserve us… why are you two naked?"

Brynjolf starts. He looks down, as though in disbelief, then covers himself with his hands.

"Well," I say, grinning in spite of myself, "we had to take our armor off, to, erm…"

"To stay afloat," Brynjolf says.

Karliah's eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.

"It was weighing us down," I say, grateful for Brynjolf's quick thinking. I look at him. He grins.

Karliah stares at us for a long moment, then shakes her head. "Well… it's a miracle we made it out alive. Did you get the key?"

"Erm…" I think of Mercer's body floating in the chamber below. "No."

"There wasn't time," Brynjolf added, clearly trying to suppress a grin.

Karliah looks back and forth between us, exasperated. "Well who's going to dive down there and get it?"

Abruptly, Brynjolf bursts out laughing. It's contagious; a split second later, I'm laughing too—laughing and clutching him gratefully. We're alive. We're alive! I almost can't believe it.

Karliah stares at us both as though we've both gone mad.

"I'll get it," I offer.

"No, I will," Brynjolf says firmly. He takes a deep breath and dives into the water.

The seconds tick by and I begin to worry. Then he reemerges with the key in one hand and the eye in the other. "He must have been full of air," he says, and for some reason this sets us off laughing again.

Karliah rolls her eyes and sets off down the passage without us. Still giggling, I help Brynjolf out of the water.

"Looks like we'll need some new armor," he remarks, reaching around to pinch my ass. "Nocturnal won't be happy about that, eh?"

Looking around to make sure Karliah is out of earshot, I whisper, "I don't think we'll be needing any for a while."

Brynjolf smirks, then kisses me. "You're the boss, lass."

And we follow Karliah out into the blinding sunshine.


End file.
